


Everything Crooked

by PreseaMoon



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreseaMoon/pseuds/PreseaMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakuryuu runs away from home. Things go downhill from there. Or, depending on one's point of view, finally start to improve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time really writing an AU, so please bear with me. The rating is a tentative M that may become an E. The number of chapters is also tentative. I have a rough plan, but am kind of nervous because I don't have much written in advance. Please forgive me. I am impatient.
> 
> Featuring Alibaba and Hakuei in supporting roles.
> 
> If you have any inquiries, please feel free to shoot them my way.

Five changes of clothes, two jackets, a scarf, a cap, mittens, a bottle of painkillers, sunglasses, some snacks, bandages, toiletries, a notebook and some books, that is what he’s managed to stuff into a moderately sized duffle bag. 100 huang is in his wallet, 200 is in a secret pocket of his bag, and another 200 is hidden in the heel of his boots. 500 huang will last him… not the rest of his life, and probably not until the end of the year, but how to acquire revenue is a problem for a much later date.

The current and most immediate issue is: Where do I stay and how far do I go now that I have successfully run away from home?

Whether it can be termed “running away from home” when the child in question is eighteen and a legal adult is debatable, but for all intents and purposes that is what this is. He, Ren Hakuryuu, has run away from his unnecessarily large mansion of a home where that witch of a woman and that oblivious pig of a man also reside. And why he’s run away isn’t really important, right? All that matters is that he has.

He’s run away from home, and now that he’s made it into the chilly autumn streets he’s not quite sure what the next step is. That woman has many connections, eyes everywhere, and while it is likely she won’t care enough to search him out and drag him home, he’d rather not to risk it. Which is why he didn’t bother with bringing his phone, laptop, or any other electrical device that could conceivably be tracked. It’s not like he’s attempted running away before, but that woman has been known to go out of her way to make him suffer.

She might even find this amusing. She might settle for monitoring him and tracking him. Keep a distant eye on his progress until he’s so downtrodden and desperate he comes back on his own, because he is a privileged rich boy and how long does he think he can last on the streets alone? His effort to escape her is laughable.

Laughable, but it makes him all the more determined to succeed. He would rather die than return to that empty house with its empty people, himself included.

So he left his house as dusk neared, and made a straight line for downtown, where all the bus and train stations are. Autumn has barely begun, yet already there’s an icy bite to the air. Once it is well and truly dark the chill will worsen. Maybe he should have brought a blanket despite not having room for one. Before he left, he decided against staying at any motels or inns, just in case, but the shivers that assault him as he walks against the wind offer a compelling argument.

The streets are busy, crowded with groups of college students out late, and he self-consciously pulls his scarf higher over his nose and his hood lower to shadow his eyes. He will stand out no matter what he does, but at least this way he won’t be immediately recognizable. It won’t hide his identity from any nearby cameras that catch sight of him, though.

Those two left for some farce of a charity event hours ago now. Usually they return sometime after midnight if they come back at all, so he has anywhere between three and twelve hours until they take notice of his absence. Or possibly more, depending on whether or not his mother deems it necessary to check in on him before he’s supposed to leave for his morning classes.

With this thought in mind he quickens his pace, although he veered away from both the bus station and the train station some time ago and isn’t sure where his feet are taking him now. He can see the value and appeal in getting out of Rakushou as soon as possible, but he’s never left the capital before. Nor has he ever personally handled something like buying a train or bus ticket. He’s not especially confident about trying to navigate a new city by himself either.

Rakushou is a large city. That woman rarely ever leaves the rich quarter anyway. There’s no need to let her affect him so much as to drive him from the city he considers home. Although, if he had a passport he’d almost definitely be buying a plane ticket to Sindria, so maybe he should come up with something more convincing.

By the time midnight arrives the streets have grown sparse but not barren and he’s layered himself in his two additional jackets as he shivers quietly on a bench. Both his shoulders ache from hauling his more cumbersome than expected bag for hours and he’s found himself deep enough downtown that he’s confident he’ll only find himself somewhere he wants to be by accident. It’s not like he had or has any destination in mind, so this doesn’t qualify as being lost, right?

He pulls down his scarf so he can see the puff of steam when he breathes out. Freezing to death might not be so bad. The temperature right now doesn’t exceed mildly uncomfortable, but it’s only going to get colder from here, until the sun rises. If he was going to run away from home, he probably should’ve chosen the summer to do it. But it’s not like he started his day knowing this is how it would end. It just sort of happened. Impulse.

He was determined not to, but already Hakuryuu knows he’ll be calling Alibaba and asking if he can crash at his dorm for maybe a day or two to gather his thoughts and plan in a secure environment. It’s risky, because Alibaba doesn’t know much of his situation and Hakuryuu would prefer it to stay that way but it’s impossible. 

Alibaba is the type of person to take unnecessary responsibility upon his shoulders, for things that don’t even have anything to do with him. It won’t sit well with him that Hakuryuu’s plan is to find the first unoccupied, abandoned building he can and live in it indefinitely. He will be confused and hurt when Hakuryuu refuses his aid.

But where’s a phone booth? He needs to let Alibaba know he’s coming, or if he’s lucky get a ride—after he finds out where he is, anyway. Maybe there’s a 24-hour store around that will let him use the phone. At long last his needlessly memorizing phone numbers will come in handy.

The streetlight that’s supposed to be illuminating this particular bench is out, but there’s plenty of moonlight for him to be considerably shadowed when someone walks by. Several people have passed him in the hour or so he’s been seated here, but now someone has walked by and then immediately taken several steps back to stand right in front of him.

If he had his phone he could at least pretend to be busily engaged—although, then his phone would likely be stolen. On the bright side he is already prepared to be mugged. That’s why his money is stored in three separate locations. But maybe three isn’t enough, now that he’s thinking about it.

“Oi.”

Hakuryuu blinks and looks up to see… a not shabbily dressed man—young man, actually, maybe a few years older than himself. The fabric of his black long sleeved shirt looks inadvisably thin for the weather and the neck of it reveals his collarbone. The pristine white scarf around his neck hasn’t been tied properly in any form and hangs over his shoulders more like a shawl, leaving most of his neck exposed to the chilling wind. His black jeans are fit but rugged, with worn areas and tears that look stylish but not purposely so. They’re tucked into his laceless, peeling boots. Eyeliner is smudged around his eyes. Or maybe that’s dirt since there’s some also smeared across his cheek.

“ _Hey_.”

And now he’s being glared at because he was staring. Great. He didn’t mean to stare. This is just a little baffling, a little unbelievable. People don’t really approach him ever. Except, that’s right, he’s literally about to be mugged, that’s what’s happening here. He’s never been the target of a crime before. Well. Not from a stranger, anyway.

Hakuryuu clears his throat and says probably too casually, “Can I help you?”

The man looks at him like he didn’t hear a word Hakuryuu just said, and then he smiles with all the radiance of a sun about to burst and plops beside him on the bench like they’re good friends instead of total strangers. Too close. Hakuryuu has the benefit of several layers but he can feel the cloth of this man’s sleeve brushing against his own. Yet he doesn’t move away for some asinine reason. He should have put his bag next to him on the bench instead of the ground—what is _wrong_ with him.

“You’ve been here for a while,” the man says, and he’s looking at Hakuryuu from the corner of his eye. “I mean, I passed by and I passed by and I passed by, and each time you were here! That’s pretty suspicious, don’t you think?”

Hakuryuu frowns as the man’s tone twists from lighthearted to near suggestive, though of what, Hakuryuu certainly can’t say. “Isn’t it more suspicious that you’ve been by that many times in the relatively short time I’ve been here?”

The man blinks at him, and the way it robs him entirely of an expression is odd and disturbing. Hakuryuu crosses his legs to cover his shifting away. The only saving grace here is that this man isn’t on drugs. Or, his behavior doesn’t sync up with any of the behaviors Hakuryuu has witnessed from those who’ve taken various illegal substances. Doesn’t mean he won’t get stabbed for saying the wrong thing, though.

While Hakuryuu sighs the man smiles and sits back. “Good point.”

He kind of wants to move, but what if he’s followed? It’s not like he knows where he is. He’ll probably lead himself into a dead end where his dead body will never be discovered. If he’s going to die it should at least be in such a way that it will put a dent in that woman’s so meticulously crafted reputation.

Headline: Multi-Millionaire Politician’s Son Found Dead, Naked in Alley Due to Drug Deal Gone Wrong

Naturally the press will sensationalize it a bit. But that’s good. For all he cares they can say he was prostituting himself, or better yet, donating his sperm by the gallon in hopes of there being dozens more Rens out there saying they have a right to the fortune. Oh what oh what could _possibly_ cause such resentment— every tabloid in the country will question and proceed to baselessly answer.

“Y’know. There aren’t any buses coming this late.”

“I know.” Hakuryuu takes a breath. “Do you know where the nearest phone booth is?”

The man tries to hold back how mocking his smile is but it really only brings attention to it. “Is that your way of asking to borrow my phone?”

“No. It’s my way of asking if there’s a phone booth nearby.”

The man laughs. Not very loud, but the melodic chime of it echoes in the empty street. “Fuck that,” he says. He digs into his pocket and produces a phone. There are chips in the black coating and an obvious crack. The man flips it open and presses some buttons before tossing it to Hakuryuu, forcing him to reflexively throw out his arms in an attempt to catch it, which he thankfully does. 

He doesn’t spare the man a glance for the chuckling his panic elicited. Though, he does murmur his gratitude. 

When Alibaba answers he can hear music in the background, but muted like he went to a different room.

Hakuryuu takes a breath and then immediately holds back greeting his friend properly. The man beside him couldn’t look less interested if he tried, but Hakuryuu still doesn’t want to use his name or Alibaba’s.

“Hello? Is anyone there? Who is this?”

“Ah, yeah. It’s me…”

“Who…? Hakuryuu, is that you? Wow. It’s, uh… it’s really late, anyway. Where are you calling from? Is everything okay?” Surprised to concerned in a matter of seconds, just like Alibaba.

“Yeah. Listen, can I stay with you a day or two?”

There’s shuffling and the music can barely be heard now. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Where are you? Do you need me to get you? I can leave right now.”

Hakuryuu is simultaneously touched and guilt-ridden by how eager Alibaba is to help him. He pushes back his fringe anxiously. Alibaba won’t want to hear that Hakuryuu doesn’t know where he his, and he won’t want to find him anywhere around here in the first place. It will make him think all sorts of things that maybe are and maybe aren’t true, and Hakuryuu just… doesn’t have the energy to discuss any of it.

“If you can, I’d be grateful. I’m…” Hakuryuu holds back a sigh and quietly asks the stranger for their location, but his asking prompts the man to steal the phone back.

Without giving an introduction, the man tells Alibaba exactly where they are and gives several potential routes. It looks like he won’t be able to relocate before his retrieval. Too bad, but at least it’s getting late enough that Alibaba won’t pelt him with questions and demand answers until they’ve both gotten some sleep.

After hanging up, the man doesn’t leave. Why.

“You can go.”

The man grins and holds up his phone. “What if your friend gets lost, like you?”

Not seeing the merit in arguing, Hakuryuu says, “Whatever. Do as you like.” He pulls his scarf back up to convey his disinterest in conversation.

Alibaba is going to be rightfully suspicious of this strange man sitting too close to him in the middle of the night in this damaged part of downtown. His protective instincts are going to shift into overdrive and get stuck there. If he doesn’t get out of the car and they don’t interact it should be fine. Just one more thing Hakuryuu will have to explain and brush off.

In the last several months especially, Alibaba has made what feels like a real effort to be his parent. Hakuryuu has no idea what brought it on, but he will say Alibaba is doing a commendable job caring more than his actual parents do so far.

He hopes it doesn’t take too long for him to get here. And maybe they can get something to eat, too. But no, that will surely cage him in questions he won’t have an excuse to not answer. Alibaba will pick up on his unwillingness and relent, but that won’t make him worry less.

Hakuryuu should probably make more friends, so there are other people he can potentially rely on, but frankly it’s a miracle he’s been accepted, however awkwardly, into Alibaba’s circle. He’s still not completely certain how that happened in the first place. 

And then, abruptly, his scarf is pulled down to his chin, and before he has a chance to react beyond freezing in blind panic, a flash goes off. He blinks several times, head cocking slightly in confusion. 

Another flash.

“Did you just take a photo of me?” he asks equal parts horrified and bewildered, though not much of either emotion presents itself in his voice.

The man looks past his phone innocently. His gazes skirts off and returns to Hakuryuu. “Well. Yeah. Two, actually.” He turns the phone around so Hakuryuu can see one of the photos on display.

That’s disturbing. That’s definitely creepy disturbing. But it’s not like he can address it—he shouldn’t have brought it up at all. For what reasons do people take unsolicited photos of those they don’t know? Many, and none of them are positive. Couldn’t he have had the decency to be discreet about it?

Hakuryuu shifts closer to the edge of the bench, pulls his scarf back up, and doesn’t give a damn if it’s perceived as rude.

When Alibaba arrives he thankfully doesn’t exit the car, and Hakuryuu tosses his bag and himself into the backseat, telling him to go. As they drive off he can’t resist looking out the back window, at the faint silhouette of the man that still hasn’t left. 

He watches until he’s been enveloped by the fog, and then doesn’t let his head fall to his bag until they’ve turned down another street.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The serial killer parts of this story will start to pop up next chapter. As a precautionary note, the serial killer aspect is a more secondary component in this story that mostly serves as a filter and developmental tool for the relationship(s) presented. Or that's kinda how it seems to be intended from my notes, anyway.
> 
> Again, if you have any questions about anything, I would be more than happy to clarify. (I am nervous, is all)

“Hakuryuu, this is ridiculous. Don’t you have a trust? Don’t you have siblings that will take you in?”

“My sister moved to Sindria to run one of our companies about a year ago. As for my trust… I don’t have access to it.”

After the death of his father, his brothers set up a trust for him, and then they died, leaving the responsibility of it in Kouen’s hands for the last decade. Hakuryuu isn’t really clear on it, but apparently he’ll only be given access once he’s talked it over with Kouen. Which they tried once last year in preparation for his turning eighteen and going to college, but not much came of it. Kouen is very… rigid, though well meaning. Sometimes when they talk it’s like he’s decided Hakuryuu is wrong before a single word has been said.

“Don’t you have, like, five siblings, though?”

“My sister is in Sindria, Kouen and Koumei are in Balbadd, and Kouha and Kougyoku are on the other side of the country.”

Not that staying with Kouha or Kougyoku is an option in general. And staying with Kouen or Koumei would be awkward, although, with them there is the same issue of not having a passport. And if he had a passport he’d definitely be going to his sister. 

“Right. And what is it, exactly, you want to do again?” 

Hakuryuu pushes the eggs on his plate from one side to the other. Alibaba has taken this smoothly so far. But that’s because he had no idea Hakuryuu had issues with his home life and isn’t sure how delicately the situation needs to be treated. When Hakuryuu gave him some vague details of his situation earlier it was clearly done with resistance, and now Alibaba doesn’t want to pry in a manner that will make him clam up and retreat.

“In the part of downtown you found me there are buildings, houses, and apartment complexes that have been abandoned for decades. I’m going to stay in one.”

Alibaba doesn’t have time to conceal his cringe with how immediate it is. “Then, why don’t you just stay with me? My room is a single. You go to the college. There’s no need for you to… do that.”

“It’s fine. I’ve thought about this for a long time.”

The first time he thought about running away he was eight. Shortly after he woke from his two month long coma he learned that in addition to both his brothers dying, his mother had married his uncle. It hurt a lot, both her disregard of the deaths and the moving on as a whole, like the loss of her children didn’t get a single faint blip on her radar. Though Hakuei assures him otherwise, sometimes he is convinced no funeral was held for them. 

Everything at that time happened in such a rush and not much of it made sense to him. It felt like everyone was so busy with change they forgot he existed and left him behind. So one day he left the house without telling anyone and wound up getting lost. His head ached and he couldn’t loosen the bandages covering his eye. It felt like there was nowhere he could go. He remained lost for hours, until night fell, but by then he didn’t mind so much. It felt like he could breathe. And then Kouen found him and brought him home.

Since then he had recurrent thoughts of running away, where he’d go, how he’d live his life from then on. Admittedly practicality never had much of a place in his fantasies, but Hakuryuu is determined to not burden Alibaba too much. He knows he can do this, he needs to, but if it turns out he can’t… Well. He’ll worry about that when the time nears.

“Hakuryuu.” Alibaba stops short to cast a look consciously over the diner. He tries again, quieter, though the other patrons are distant and too absorbed in their own conversations to pay them mind. “Listen, I’ve lived on the streets. It’s not pleasant, and it’s not easy. You… You’re allowed to ask for help when you need it. I’m your friend, I want to help you.”

Hakuryuu smiles at him sincerely. “I know. I just need some time away. From all this. It won’t be forever,” he says despite not having actually thought that far ahead.

Alibaba does not look any measure of reassured. “What about school?”

“I’m not dropping out, but I’m not going to anymore classes this semester.”

“Hakuryuu—”

“It’s not like I actually need to be here, you know. My future doesn’t depend on this. This is just… filler.”

Alibaba looks at him like he’s missing something important. He sighs and hangs his head. “Fine. But I’m going to help you. And you’re going to get in touch with me at least twice a week. _And_ I’m going to okay the place you stay.”

As far as conditions go that’s pretty lenient, so Hakuryuu agrees.

“And… And it’s okay if you change your mind. You can stay with me whenever you need it, even if it’s just a couple of days. And,” he says with some hesitance, “if you want to talk about—about anything, really, doesn’t matter what—at any time, I’ll listen.”

Hakuryuu makes eye contact but breaks it off shortly after. “Thank you, Alibaba.”

Alibaba rejects the first five places they check out, either they’re too popular for exploration, not secure enough, or already occupied by several… less than friendly looking people. The place he finally accepts is a two-story building between two currently in use buildings. It’s in relatively good condition with a back entrance that leads into an empty lot, and past that is a wooded area. It makes it easy to bring in the mattress they collect and some other small furniture unseen.

They set him up in a room on the first floor that’s relatively close to both the stairs and an empty window to an alley, which they securely cover with a tarp, but leave one corner free so it can be torn away if needed. Alibaba is very concerned with the possibility of him being harmed, so this way he has two immediate escape routes if needed. 

There are several windows placed high along on the wall letting in enough light that the moderate sized room won’t be completely drenched in darkness no matter the time of day. The walls are relatively thin, so he should be able to hear if anyone else is around. And when the door opens it will hide his mattress, giving him a chance to sneak out or get ready to attack whoever’s entered.

Alibaba paces from one side of the room to the other and back. “And you don’t have your phone, right? Should we get you one of those prepaid ones? And… what else do you need? There has to be something.”

Alibaba has already supplied him with candles, a flashlight and a lantern, matches, several blankets, this furniture, even food and bottles of water. If there is anything else he needs, Hakuryuu would prefer if Alibaba didn’t go out of his way to provide it.

Alibaba looks to where he’s seated on the mattress, arms casually hanging over his pulled up knees. He takes a breath and walks over, crouches in front of him to look at him directly. “Hakuryuu, please call if you need anything, doesn’t matter what. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Because he always takes promises and verbal contracts at face value, Alibaba sighs with relief and stands back up after he pats Hakuryuu’s wrist reassuringly. Though visibly calmed, he still looks like he might cry. It would not be the first time. 

“Alright. Alright, I’m gonna go. Because, y’know, my class. I… Do you want me to come back?”

Hakuryuu smiles. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you in a few days.”

After Alibaba leaves, his exhaustion hits him keenly and he lets his body fall to the mattress. It’s not soft but not lumpy. Compared to what he’s used to it’s threadbare, no better than a stone floor. The blankets definitely make up for what the mattress lacks in comfort, however. He wraps himself up, over his head and around his feet, settles into the growing warmth as cool air floats over him. 

Though unlikely, he wonders if either of them have bothered to comment on his absence. It’s not as if Koutoku is his father, or has ever had interest in being a father to him, and Gyokuen doesn’t care about him. She made a good show of caring for a while, when his father was alive—and his brothers. Then it died with them, immediately. 

There are times since then, however, when that woman chooses to care, and not in a way that can be construed as “motherly” or sympathetic. It always exceeds discomforting by such a large margin that he sometimes wants to beg her to attack him any other way. As long as she doesn’t touch him, or get too close to him, it’s fine, she can do and say whatever she wants. He has no idea what he ever did for her to want to treat him—and only him—the way she does.

His throat goes dry, his jaw aches, and though he does his best to hold them back, tears leak from the corners of his eyes. Crying shouldn’t be such a big deal when he’s alone, but thinking that causes the tears to fall in earnest, a sob spilling from his chest along with them. This is the closest he’s ever been to something like freedom. This is reprieve. He shouldn’t feel so… like this, like his heart is being drawn and quartered.

And like this, refusing to dwell on the swirling emotions inside him, he falls into dreamless asleep.

When he wakes up he’s sore and there are dried tears on his face that can still be felt even after he’s rubbed them away. The clothes he didn’t change out of feel stiff as he pushes the blanket off and sits up. The little light that’s stretching into the room makes him think it’s the morning, but he can’t be sure. 

While changing clothes, he wonders if sneaking back home for more is worth the risk before deciding that just considering it is beyond foolish. And now that he’s thinking about it, he’s actually going to have to rely on Alibaba so much more than he realized. Where else can he go to shower and wash his clothes? There are options, but the ones he keeps coming back to are either unpleasant or not a good idea for someone easily recognizable. He could just… not wash things, but the thought alone makes him a little nauseated.

After twisting his hair up into a messy topknot he leaves the building planning to get familiar with the area. There isn’t much else for him to do, after all. Normally he only left his house for classes and to hang out with Alibaba—attending parties where he did not end up interacting with Alibaba much are also included in that category. 

This area of downtown isn’t rundown so much as simply disused. The businesses that are here have been around for years look and good, and the recent businesses get enough customers to thrive. Years ago the area was built up and renovated by a group that opposed the Rens. They endorsed rival businesses and spread unseemly rumors, hoping it would derail their successes.

And then, just as they were gaining traction and people were taking real notice of them, that woman crushed them so everyone could see their fall. As if they’d only been allowed to rise so far in order to serve as an example to others. Since then it’s been like this, dull with spots of color. A refuge for those who want to get away and someplace bored kids can explore.

He gets a good feel for the area surrounding his building. A grocery store is close by and a department store is within walking distance for most other things he might need. Farther away is a library and a park, and there are some other stores, only a few of which look questionable. Alibaba must have had this in mind as well when he approved the space.

After walking around for several hours he figures he’s done and heads back despite it not being close to dark yet. But on his way, about halfway there, an individual sees fit to grab his arm to get his attention. The hand wraps around his elbow and slides down to his wrist, uncomfortably close to his palm like they’re about to hold hands.

Hakuryuu wrenches his hand away, heart already beating wildly at the unexpected contact. He turns around while stepping away, and his glare withers into puzzlement as he gets a look at his assailant, the man from just a few days ago who took his picture without permission—presumably for some disgusting masturbatory purpose.

If he were a few years younger he’d be appropriately concerned about having a stalker bold enough to approach him. Not that he’s actually all that at ease with it now. 

He’s about to say something mildly polite, a greeting or an acknowledgment of some kind, but then he closes his throat on it and refuses to speak, just staring at the man in an effort to communicate his discontent. Maybe he’ll leave. But in his experience stalkers are unnaturally persistent, even early on—especially early on, maybe. Most of his sister’s stalkers were disposed of fairly quickly, anyway.

The man stares at him like he’s amused by his reactions, and then he steps away to put space between them but it only ends up emphasizing how close they are. And the guy doesn’t say anything, just smiling like he’s waiting for Hakuryuu to greet him first. Like he can see how deeply civility has been ingrained into him. And it is deep, like an infection in his blood. Sometimes he literally cannot become angry, or react as if he is. Right now he wants nothing more than to tell this guy off, but his emotions become duller the more he tries to summon them to the forefront.

They stare each other, neither of their expressions slipping, and Hakuryuu can feel his insides bubbling like foam moments away from dissolving. So he walks away. And naturally he is followed. The man hops in front of him and walks backwards with him.

“I’m Judar,” he says.

Hakuryuu bites his tongue so he doesn’t say anything without thinking, and ignores the man as he continues on his way. Maybe if he walks for long enough the guy will trip on something and fall. Then he’ll have time to get away without being seen. 

“Do you want me to show you around?” He laughs. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m being friendly.”

The strange thing is that Hakuryuu isn’t getting especially bad vibes from this guy. Like, he’s weird, obviously, but it’s not in a way that makes his skin want to shed in an effort to get away. Meeting twice in a matter of days is not coincidence. This is 100% deliberate. Somehow. Stalking. Yet the most he can really feel about it is confused and a little annoyed.

He sighs and stops walking. This is probably really stupid, but he’s always been absurdly reckless. And if this guy is hanging around here, that means he should live in the area. If Hakuryuu can make use of him, then he should, it’s that simple. There’s no reason not to. It’s not like he honestly thinks he’s going to end up raped, murdered, dismembered, with his remains left to rot in a well.

“Okay, Judar,” he says, “show me where I can buy a prepaid phone.”

He stops smiling, but then says with unexpected cheer, “Gladly.”

They walk for ten minutes in silence, Judar ahead of him by several steps. He does not ask for a name, and with his pace it looks like he’s trying to lose Hakuryuu.

“Do you live around here?” Hakuryuu asks.

“Yeah. My apartment isn’t too far from where you were the other night.”

Assuming that’s not a lie, that is. He sighs. “My name is Hakuryuu.”

Judar stops and turns to face him with a quick snap. He bends over a little so their eye lines level and it’s a little closer than appreciated. There’s smaller smile on his face now. It complements his face better than those beaming grins given earlier.

“Nice to meet you, Hakuryuu.” He says his name with precision, mouth curling around the syllables like they’ve never strung the sounds together before.

Hakuryuu can feel his face warm but he doesn’t recoil or scowl. He realizes, belatedly, that he’s a little awestruck. His tongue feels heavy like a sponge and he wants to look away but he can’t. When he opens his mouth it’s only a little bit and he chokes on nothing as Judar turns back around, leaving him behind.

Hakuryuu takes a shaking breath and catches up.

“Here you are, Hakuryuu,” Judar says with a flourish of his arms, like this store has appeared by his own power and nothing else.

Hakuryuu makes his purchase, deciding on a dinky black phone with 500 minutes on it. He has no idea if that’s too little or too much, but it’s not as though he plans on having long conversations on it. And it cost more than he was anticipating.

Considering his earlier and current suspicions, Hakuryuu should not be surprised to find Judar outside the store waiting for him, but he is. He sort of stares at him dumbfound while Judar plays with a cat, oblivious to his presence. He pokes at the cat’s sides, one and then the other, and teases it with his fingers, snatching them away when the cat swipes at him. When the cat nicks his finger he laughs before wincing.

Seeing the blood balloon and slide down his finger, Hakuryuu says numbly, “You should wash that.”

Judar looks over like he wasn’t expecting to see him, and smiles that same slow, nice smile. After gently pushing the cat away with his foot he licks the wound, then licks it again when blood quickly reappears. “Eh. Maybe. I thought for sure you were gonna ditch me, Hakuryuu.”

“I still might,” he responds, somewhat defensively, and his heart races at speaking without properly considering his words.

Judar doesn’t look even a little offended, so at least there’s that.

Hakuryuu looks at the cat Judar was playing with. It’s settled across the street, watching them, tail swishing in the air. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Judar takes a step closer. “Do you wanna repay my kindness?”

“No.”

Judar is looking at him oddly, with his hands raised. “I didn’t mean like that.”

Hakuryuu frowns. “Like what?” 

“…Never mind. Anyway. Hakuryuu." And Hakuryuu kind of wants to tell him to stop saying his name. “What do you wanna do now? Are you hungry? Let's eat. I'll treat you!”

He wishes he had his phone so someone could interrupt with a call or some sort of urgent message, or he could fake it. He wishes he had the ability to think of convincing lies off the top of his head. He wishes he weren’t hungry so refusal would be reasonable.

But he doesn’t have any of that, so he mindlessly agrees, and likes the smile he receives more than he should.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ?

It takes a little more than three weeks for Hakuryuu to truly settle into the nook he’s made into a temporary home. Three weeks as in, that’s how long it takes for him to allow himself to get absorbed in a book, to get relaxed enough that he doesn’t tense at every little sound he hears, to look at the room and think of it as his. 

It’s homey now, which in this case means the room is now the cleanest in the building. Dirt and dust have been scrubbed away with cleaning supplies he purchased against Alibaba’s suggestion. There’s a cardboard box in a corner for trash: wrappers, bottles, and bugs he’s squashed. He’s designated a table against the wall for his clothing, and there’s a smaller one next to it for the rest of his things. Nothing is left in his duffle bag, which now rests at the foot of his mattress.

Alibaba has dropped in unannounced a few times, usually bringing food or some other basic necessity with him. The most recent time, Hakuryuu wasn’t around and left behind his phone. When he came back from seeing Judar, Alibaba looked about ready to go out searching for him and already had a note written asking for Hakuryuu to call him when he got back.

Though he has grown comfortable, Hakuryuu is very aware that he can’t go on like this forever. In the first week alone he read through five books, three of which he brought with him. Judar provided the other two, as well as a few others he’s yet to start. Sometimes he doodles or writes, but he always loses steam before long and is left with indistinguishable scribbles. This existence is boring and lonely, and though there’s not much difference from how he was living before, somehow this feels emptier.

He can imagine his mother’s condescending laugh. Telling him, “What is it you’re hoping to accomplish with this belated teenage rebellion? Isn’t it about time you came home? Honestly, Hakuryuu, aren’t you done with these childish games yet…”

Her voice is clear, as if she really is behind him murmuring with her lips at his ear, and he catches himself on the wall as he loses his balance, feeling sick. He shudders then stomps to the other side of the room, trying to shake off the feel of her that isn’t there.

 _Games_ , what is that even? What games has he ever played? It’s always her. She rewrites the rules then pretends she didn’t, as if his every disobedience is a deliberate attack on her and the family by extension.

From the table his phone vibrates and lets out a chime, startling him. 

The message is from Alibaba. All it says is that he’s on his way and to not go anywhere. It has proper punctuation, so it’s probably not too urgent. He wonders if Alibaba is aware of how often he sounds like a parent. It seems like something he would be teased for, but Hakuryuu doubts Alibaba feels a need to treat his other friends this way. From what he’s seen of them and their interactions with Alibaba, they probably wouldn’t tolerate it.

Hakuryuu doesn’t mind per se. Having someone around who is… honestly invested in his wellbeing is pleasant in its unfamiliarity. While it can get a little much at times, he’s usually—but not always—grateful later. If Alibaba weren’t around, he’d definitely be worse off than he is, physically and mentally. If not for Alibaba, he would have gone home by now, or be dead, because he’s stubborn—exposure—not because he’d be murdered.

When he met Alibaba at a party he was dragged to three years ago, and proceeded to run into him multiple times the following week, friendship wasn’t something he was even interested in. Alibaba, however, seemed to take their continuously crossing paths as a sign they should get to know one another and struck up conversation with him each time. Somehow during that, Alibaba got his number and the rest is a blur that ends in friendship. Hakuryuu is apparently someone whose resistance wears thin with enough persistence.

Alibaba arrives in just under forty-five minutes. His hair hasn’t been brushed and his clothes are wrinkled like he picked them up from the floor. When he spots Hakuryuu on the mattress, he smiles and sighs with relief. 

Because he doesn’t know how to take that, or how to react, he smiles back.

Alibaba fidgets as though expecting Hakuryuu to give a greeting or start things off by telling him about his day. Then he blurts out a few strings of words without finishing, like what he planned to say sounded better when it wasn’t coming out of his mouth.

Eventually Alibaba says, “Have you read the newspaper or… Yeah, read the news?” 

Hakuryuu didn’t really keep up with the news before. Doing so now hasn’t crossed his mind. He shakes his head, wondering if maybe he’s been reported missing and it’s somehow made it into the paper. Though, Alibaba would be acting differently if that were the case.

Alibaba drops his bag onto the table. It lands with a solid thump that says a couple of heavy textbooks are inside. Upon opening it, it doesn’t take long to find what he’s looking for. The newspaper he produces is bent at the corners and there are a few minor tears.

Instead of saying anything, Alibaba holds the paper out in front of his face, not even pointing to the article he wants to draw attention to. 

Finding it doesn’t take much work.

_Discovered Bodies Identified as Associates of Ren Family_

The article below is a snippet, providing the names of the deceased but saying to open the paper for more details. Hakuryuu isn’t interested. All of the names he recognizes. A few of them he’s met, too, but he doesn’t really care that they’ve been killed. Maybe if it were one of his siblings it’d be different, but just thinking that feels like fanfare. 

Alibaba’s intentions aren’t exactly clear, and he’d rather not to jump to conclusions, so he says, “What about it?”

This seems to confuse Alibaba. His arm holding the paper sinks. “Um. That’s your family, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you… I mean. Isn’t this sort of a big deal? Seven bodies were found. Some of the remains don’t match up with the bodies, so there’s even more than that. Aren’t you worried?”

Hakuryuu shrugs. “It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Of course it does. It’s your family.” Alibaba looks hurt on behalf of his family, who, in fact, would not be bothered by what he just said. They’d take more issue with his lack of tact.

After a lingering silence, he sighs. “What are you trying to say? That I should return home to my abusive mother to provide her with support at this potentially stressful time?”

“No. Well… I just thought—I don’t know what I thought. But…”

“Alibaba, are you aware my mother is a politician? This tragedy will be used to her advantage, to paint herself in a sympathetic light because she has the resources to do so. These deaths don’t mean anything to her, or to the family for that matter. This is a minor inconvenience at most.”

Disbelieving, Alibaba asks, “How’s that?”

Hakuryuu takes a thoughtful breath. He drags his finger across the list of names. “None of these people matter. All of them can and will be easily replaced. My mother will give some heartfelt, tearful speech about these tragic losses. But she won’t say anything of substance. She won’t address how they were casualties, not targets, and she’ll act like this has nothing to do with our family, like our name in the title is a coincidence. 

This person or group is trying to hurt the Ren family itself, but this method is more like… using paint pellets instead of bullets. Vandalism. It’ll be annoying to clean up, but there won’t be any lasting damage.”

“But—Hakuryuu, isn’t that still really concerning? Didn’t you just say your family is a target?”

“People have been trying to ruin my family since before I was born. It’s always a target in some form.”

“Then… aren’t you basically saying you’re in danger?”

“I’m in no worse danger than if I were at home.” If possible, Alibaba looks more unsettled than before, and Hakuryuu hastens to clarify. “Assassinating me would put the family on high alert while achieving nothing. I don’t have any power. I have no influence or control over anything. I’m just a college student, and right now I’m not even that.” He shrugs casually. “Killing me would be the most desperate last resort.”

Alibaba does not look reassured, and Hakuryuu wonders if he should have phrased that differently. 

“Do you think your family will be attacked directly?”

“No. I mean, it’s been a long time since anyone tried, and longer since anyone succeeded. Whoever’s doing this is sloppy. If they wanted to kill my mother, they should’ve gone right for her. Now she knows and will make the most of it. They’re practically doing her a favor.”

Alibaba gives him one of those dumbfounded looks where he can’t believe anything Hakuryuu’s said is real. Thankfully it doesn’t last long, and he plops onto the mattress next to him, exhausted. “You are entirely too nonchalant about this.”

“Am I? It’s sudden, but not that unusual. I’m more surprised that I didn’t already know about the disappearances. Aren’t you from an influential family, Alibaba?”

“I uh, guess I kind of am, but my family’s never had to worry about death threats or people being killed as far as I know.”

Hakuryuu leans back against the wall and stares up at the ceiling. “Well. You get used to it. At this point it’s a little underwhelming.”

“How can you say that? People are dead, Hakuryuu. Dead just because they’re affiliated with your family.”

“And that was their choice. Maybe you somehow don’t know this, but my family isn’t actually well regarded. It’s all a front. Like… you know those films where there’s a crime family that runs drugs or guns or whatever? And whenever someone messes up or crosses a line, they might get killed for it? It’s kind of like that.”

“Your family is a crime family?”

“No. That’s the sort of reputation we have, though. The way my family goes about things tends to be… less than ethical and motivated by self-interest. By extension, most of the people working for us are like that, or become like that by necessity. They knew what they were getting into, and if they didn’t, they left when they found out. I don’t have much sympathy for them.”

“Hakuryuu!”

“What? I should—” Hakuryuu holds his tongue because he does have some sense about what is and isn’t appropriate to say, even in the company of his friend. Now that he’s cut himself off he feels like his strings have been cut too, and he sags against he wall.

When he glances at Alibaba, he finds him looking straight ahead with a strained expression like he’s holding himself back from expressing anything. Alibaba thinks he’s in the wrong. Whatever that means. And Hakuryuu doesn’t have the energy to justify himself when he shouldn’t need to in the first place.

Neither of them says another word, and he wonders if one of them is supposed to apologize for something.

Alibaba sighs. “With this sort of thing going on, are you really safe here?”

Hakuryuu doesn’t feel like answering. “Yes,” he says.

“Right. Will you keep updated? And if you feel th—” Alibaba is interrupted by his phone going off, shrilling louder than is necessary from inside his pocket. He fumbles getting to it, and when he sees the screen, he tenses and gasps before accepting the call. He springs up from the mattress and spins to partially face Hakuryuu. “Hey, give me a second, alright.” Pressing the phone to his chest so there’s less of a chance he’ll be overhead he tells Hakuryuu, “I gotta go. Um. Okay?”

Hakuryuu waves him away.

Alibaba moves closer to the door and stops. “Are you… Never mind. I’ll call you. Or, you know what, I’ll wait for you to call me.” 

It takes a few more moments for Alibaba to exit, and then a full minute after that for Hakuryuu to relax, though his nerves tingle with energy and his hands shake. He has never had a more exhausting interacting with Alibaba. They’ve never had a clash of opinion before and he’s not sure how to take it.

It’s not like the families of any of those individuals are around. Is he supposed to lie and censor himself even in the company of friends? If that’s so, what is the purpose of having friends? 

Since he doesn’t want to think about any of what just happened, Hakuryuu tries to distract himself with various things. Meditating, reading, expending energy by pacing, none of it is successful. Inevitably, his mind wanders to alternate scenarios, but none of them feature an Alibaba who’s satisfied with him.

Before he knows it, he’s grabbing his phone and dialing Judar’s number. But only in the instant he presses “call” does he start to reconsider.

He just had a less than stellar interaction with his only friend, and from there he decides the best course of action is to interact with the only other person he knows? He should hang up before he does something more regretful than any of this.

He should hang up, forget what’s happened, and go for a walk, get some fresh air.

He should—

“Hakuryuu!”

He should apologize for calling and excuse himself. Just hanging up without saying anything would be okay. And he can turn off his phone so Judar can’t call back. That should be fine. 

“Do you want to hang out?” His voice sounds disembodied.

“Do you want to come here or should I find you?”

Why is he surprised Judar agreed? He’s already standing up and hastily placing things into his bag. “I’ll come to you.”

He doesn’t know why, but he puts everything he has with him back in his bag like it will be stolen if he leaves it for more than a few hours. 

These are the things Hakuryuu knows about Judar: he claims to be twenty; he does, in fact, live close to where they first met; he doesn’t like vegetables—he brings it up every time Hakuryuu eats them; and Judar is apparently unaffected by the weather because he’s never dressed for it.

Hakuryuu doesn’t know Judar’s last name, if he has a job, if he has friends, why he’s chosen to befriend Hakuryuu, or how he spends the majority of his time. Because Hakuryuu is not forthcoming with these details himself, and because Judar hasn’t asked, he returns the favor and pretends it’s not something he’s immensely grateful for. 

Judar lives on the third floor of his building. There’s a bedroom Hakuryuu hasn’t seen, a bathroom, and a main room with a kitchen area that doesn’t have much more than a fridge and a stove/oven combo. It’s relatively bare in terms of decoration and furniture, no pictures or knickknacks. There’s a long couch and another couch and large, beaten coffee table between them. All three are placed near a decently sized television with a single shelf full of movies close by.

Several articles of clothing routinely litter the carpet, but other than that it’s mostly free of debris and stains. The blank walls are naturally painted off-white, but sections are splattered black and other splatters are gold, red, or grey. Whether this is intended style or the result of laziness is impossible to discern without asking, and Hakuryuu doesn’t plan to ask. He suspects it’s the latter.

Along one of the walls are piles of books, at least thirty or fifty. The few piles Hakuryuu has gone through didn’t have much fiction. Some are definitely college textbooks. Anatomy, psychology and other books on behavior, medical texts, biology, engineering, cooking, there are even some biographies—including one on his father that he’s studiously overlooked ever since he found it.

The dust collected on the top book varies the different days he’s over, as do the heights of the piles. Which does not mean Judar has actually read them, but Hakuryuu can’t imagine anyone committing themselves to something so tedious just to prove to an acquaintance they’re well read.

Hakuryuu has made himself comfortable on the longer of the two couches, facedown with a small pillow over his head and his bag on the ground next to him. One of the good things about Judar is that he doesn’t mind if Hakuryuu sits around his home doing nothing.

“Did you come here just to sleep on my couch, Hakuryuu?”

Hakuryuu groans and pushes himself to his knees. “No. Sorry.” He came here to get his mind off Alibaba. All he’s done is sulk. 

Judar leans on the back of the couch to stare closely at him with a concerned frown. “What’s wrong?”

Shame at being so obvious swells inside him and he lets himself fall to his back. What irritates Hakuryuu most is knowing that, since Alibaba is the only person he knows outside his family, he has no frame of reference to know if his apathy is out of place or not, is acceptable or not.

Does Alibaba think less of him if he can’t care for the lives of people who further his mother’s luxury? That seems so petty. Hakuryuu is the one he actually knows.

“It’s nothing I want to talk about.”

Judar climbs over the couch’s back and onto Hakuryuu’s ankles, which he’d pull free, but wriggling out from under Judar’s weight isn’t worth the effort.

Judar’s fingers drum along his legs. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

This is why he’s here. Why didn’t one of them suggest this earlier? “Sure.”

“Great!” And with that, Judar hops off and calls for some food while he sets up some mindless action movie. The menu screen cycles repeatedly as Judar circles the room making his order. 

Now that he knows Judar better, or is at the very least familiar with him, Hakuryuu thinks he can say he isn’t a stalker. In any case, he doesn’t exhibit the behavior Hakuryuu would expect a stalker to have upon luring their victim to their home several times. They mostly sit around and watch movies. Sometimes Judar even falls asleep. If he is a stalker, he’s not a very smart or competent one.

Not that Judar is harmless. There’s not any solid reason to believe so, but that’s the sense he gets whenever Judar zones out and forgets himself. When Judar interacts with others, Hakuryuu is left wondering if he looks just as on edge with him. He talks with most people like each word cuts his patience by half. 

As they sit on opposite ends of the couch, Hakuryuu tries to focus on the movie. The acting is subpar and made awkward by the clunky writing, the plot is sensible and not too outrageous, the choreography is captivating enough that he wonders if he could replicate some of the moves. It’s predictable but enjoyable.

Despite his efforts, it’s as if his deliberate attempt to get away conjures what happened with Alibaba to the forefront of his mind. 

There was a way he was supposed to take that information, a way he way supposed to react, sympathy he was required to show even though he didn’t feel it. No, more than that. Alibaba wanted— _expected_ him to feel sympathy, too, not simply act the part. He expected Hakuryuu to value all human life, just because. As if that’s anywhere near sensible.

“Hey, Judar,” Hakuryuu starts slowly, “did you hear about those bodies that were found?”

“Huh? You mean those murders that were reported in the newspaper today? Yeah, what about them?” 

Hakuryuu sinks his teeth into his tongue. What does he think, that Judar will also lack sympathy for the deaths, thereby validating Hakuryuu’s own apathy? That won’t prove anything.

“What do you think of it?” Hakuryuu says, his tongue feeling like stiff rubber but still managing to get the words out clearly.

Judar looks at him with a sort of intense focus, and then looks back to the movie as if he hadn’t. “Eh. I don’t really care. Got what they deserved.”

Hakuryuu looks at him and can’t tell if he’s being sincere or not. 

“That family is like a tumor, don’t you think, Hakuryuu?”

That’s relieving, right? That’s what he hoped to hear. Yet anxiety seeps up from nowhere and sinks lower in his stomach like an anchor reaching for the deepest depths in the ocean. His mouth goes dry. Then he realizes that Judar is watching him from the corner of his eye, waiting for a response.

An uncomfortably loud explosion goes off in the movie.

“Yes,” Hakuryuu says faintly, thinking about how he and the rest of his siblings are included in that, “they are.”


	4. Chapter 4

Hakuryuu opens his eyes and doesn’t know where he is. It’s dark and he’s warm, comfortably swathed head to toe in worn blankets. He’s dressed in clothing looser than anything he ever wears. They give movability he doesn’t get sleeping in the layers of his day clothes. His hair has been pulled out of its ponytail, and it curls into his face to tickle his nose. He’s so drowsy it feels like he’s sinking deep underwater, disconnected from his body.

To be concerned about where he is doesn’t occur to him. He stretches, curling blankets underneath him in the process. This bed is infinitely better than that thin mattress he’s been using. It’s larger, too. He stretches again, letting his legs cross to the other side of the bed, see how far he can go, but when he does, his foot touches something solid. The haze in his head is punctured with the reality of his person coming into contact with another body, albeit with several layers of fabric as a buffer.

Split seconds after his mind registers another person in the bed with him his body reacts. The warmth surrounding him is sweltering against his suddenly clammy skin. Without conscious thought his leg kicks out, and then kicks again and again with increasing force. Each kick pushes him further away but not far enough. The blood rushing in his ears spurs him to kick harder as though it will quell his panic.

Since his arms are trapped under the blanket, adding to his fear, he doesn’t realize when he gets to the edge of the bed, and falls. He lets out a pained exclamation when his head and back hit the wood floor. Meanwhile, his legs remain wiggling on the bed. After some awkward maneuvering he’s able to get the rest of his body to the ground, but the blankets remain wrapped tight around him. His heavy breathing has left the air around him uncomfortably hot but he can’t make an opening with his arms twisted up in the blanket.

He struggles for a minute, only giving up when it becomes apparent all he’s doing is wearing himself out.

He hears his name, muffled, and chooses to calm down and stop shaking, leveling out his breath and relaxing his tense limbs. Hands pull at the blankets covering him, jerking him away from the ground and back instead of unraveling him. It takes agonizing minutes of hands wandering over his body and pushing him this way and that for him to actually get free, tumbling to the ground with a final thud.

The light isn’t on and there isn’t any light shining through a window. There aren’t any solitary lights from electronics either. It takes a few blinks for him to adequately make out the outline of Judar’s body, and then a light is flicked on and Hakuryuu rolls away, covering his face with his hands. He tentatively peeks through his fingers, letting his eyes adjust, and sees Judar rubbing his thigh while glaring at him.

“What the hell, Hakuryuu? You have a nightmare or something?”

Hakuryuu sits up. “No. I just… What happened?” he asks, tugging at the unfamiliar clothing pointedly. The shirt doesn’t reach his bellybutton and the collar is so wide and lopsided it exposes a large portion of his scarred chest and shoulder.

Judar cocks his head and gone is the look of annoyance for one of bemusement. He is dressed similarly. His top is shorter and fits better but still loosely, and his pants are hanging so low it borders on obscene, like they might slip and fall to the floor without warning.

“You fell asleep.”

“What?”

“On the couch. So I brought you here. Remember?”

Vaguely. The later events of the day come back to him slowly. He can remember being shook awake, Judar leading him to the bedroom, guiding him through changing his clothes. He places his palm over his bare stomach, fingers grazing the edge of his scars. “And why am I dressed in this?”

“Hakuryuu, do you prefer to sleep fully clothed?” Judar’s eyebrows furrow. “Or naked, I guess. Would you sleep naked at someone else’s home? In someone else’s bed? You’re shameless, Hakuryuu, but I like that about you.”

Hakuryuu ignores Judar in favor of scanning the room. Neither his clothing nor his bag is present. The room has more personality than the rest of the apartment, though not by much. Two of the walls are painted completely black, and so is the ceiling. The other two walls are an off-white color. Like the living room, all the walls are bare. There’s a desk with an open laptop and a lamp and not much else. The floor is littered with crumpled balls of paper and sheets of paper with nothing he can make out from where he is.

“Hakuryuu.”

Hakuryuu’s attention shifts automatically. “Yes?”

Judar crouches next to him. “Do you want to get some breakfast?”

“What time is it?”

Judar finds his phone. “About 3 AM.”

“You want to _go_ get breakfast?”

“Yeah. There’s this diner around here that never closes. Do you wanna go? Or we can go back to sleep and go later.”

Hakuryuu mouths that _we_ to himself, and then slides a knee up so it blocks some of his stomach. “Now is fine.”

Judar rocks towards him then away to stand up. “Great!”

As he turns around he lets his pants fall to the floor and steps out of them to approach the closet. He’s not wearing underwear. The shape of his legs is nice, as is his backside in general. Hakuryuu definitely takes too long to avert his gaze. The image reappears in his mind while he stares at the carpet. A blush blazes across his cheek a few seconds later then it should.

Hakuryuu keeps his head tilted down but steals glances to the side, where Judar remains half-undressed and rifling through his closet. What’s taking him so long to find a pair of pants? Why did he decide to get undressed before he knew what he was going to wear? Hakuryuu massages his forehead. There’s not really a worthwhile reason to feel embarrassed, but he can’t help it and his heart won’t slow down. 

He’s still blushing when Judar turns back to him to say, “Do you think I look cool, Hakuryuu?”

Judar has dressed himself in a pair of pants that are black at the bottom and pure white at the top, with a gradient separating them. Instead of a proper belt he has a sash, whose tail reaches his mid-thigh. His sleeveless black top is too short, leaving the lines of his hips showing. Over that is a faded black jacket that stops just past his elbows to showoff the bangles around his wrists. His toes wiggle as he waits for Hakuryuu’s judgment. 

“Sure.”

Judar frowns. It looks pasted on and clashes strangely with the merriment in his eyes. Makes him look kind of less than real.

“I mean, yeah. You look cool. Very… Very stylish?”

Judar grins despite the weak response. The simplicity of it makes Hakuryuu start to smile back, but then Judar interrupts it by saying, “You get dressed, too. Or go out like that, that’s fine. But then other people will look at you.”

Judar often says things like that. Things that are so vaguely flirtatious Hakuryuu would be hesitant to label them as such if not for Judar’s tone, expression, and prior comments. And then there’s the fact Judar’s romantic/sexual/whatever interest in him is evident without words. It’s sort of always there, in his actions, his smiles, the way he seeks Hakuryuu’s compliments on even the most minor things and his reactions to them.

Hakuryuu sees it. He just. He doesn’t want to do anything with Judar’s interest. Doing nothing is always a safe option. Not necessarily the best option, or even a good option, but doing nothing works to maintain the status quo. That’s typically what he goes with when he’s confronted with change. In his experience, change has rarely led to anything worthwhile. It can’t be trusted. People and their intents can’t be trusted. There’s not really exception to that.

While Judar doesn’t seem bothered by the complete lack of reaction, neither does he take it as a sign he should stop. Hakuryuu supposes that’s fine, because it’s more or less how Judar has interacted with him from day one.

That night, without intending to, without really thinking about it, Hakuryuu stays at Judar’s apartment. They lost track of time talking for hours about nothing of consequence, interesting shops in the area, weird news, random anecdotes from their lives, their interests. 

Judar is easy to talk to, that’s all. Comfortable in a way he’s never experienced. Whenever Hakuryuu fails to think of something to say, Judar seamlessly switches to another topic before the silence can affect either of them. So they ended up talking late into the night. An offer to stay over wasn’t even made. Judar just said that they should go to bed and that was it.

Hakuryuu didn’t insist on sleeping on the couch, and he didn’t take issue with sharing Judar’s bed. Nor did he refuse the revealing, ill-fitting sleep clothes Judar gave him. He didn’t move away when Judar slowly closed the distance between them on the bed. Not even when Judar’s cool fingertips sneaked under his blanket to poke the small of his back, siphoning away warmth and making him shiver.

Hakuryuu stays the night after that at Judar’s, too.

The following night as well. 

And the night after that.

And another night.

An entire week, and not once does returning to the building he was staying in occur to him.

What he does think about—nigh constantly when he’s alone—is Alibaba, who neither calls nor texts the entirety of his first week staying with Judar, which is… Hakuryuu can’t actually place how he feels about Alibaba’s absence. Relieved, worried, something else entirely—indifferent.

Alibaba is always always doing what he thinks is best for others. Rarely does he let his own words compromise him. That they’ve had a disagreement shouldn’t change the fact that he’s concerned about Hakuryuu’s situation and that he believes Hakuryuu is handling the situation poorly.

The parental role Alibaba has tried to occupy in Hakuryuu’s life won’t let him leave Hakuryuu be when he believes he’s behaving recklessly.

From what Hakuryuu understands of parental roles, this has more to do with wanting to control him than any real sense of responsibility. If there is any it’s incidental and unrelated to Hakuryuu, such as a responsibility to keep up whatever appearance Alibaba is trying to maintain that Hakuryuu’s defiance will besmirch.

Alibaba calls in the middle of the following week.

Although not what Hakuryuu planned to do, the call goes unanswered.

He stares at the name, the number, and plays in his mind a superficial conversation where they pretend some inherent conflict between their natures doesn’t exist. They exchange platitudes and gloss over what happened if they address it at all, before moving on to Alibaba’s disapproval of his life choices. As if Hakuryuu’s decisions are something he has more of an entitlement to judge than anyone else, including Hakuryuu.

Dealing with Alibaba putting on a show of not minding Hakuryuu’s view as he subtly tries to alter it is exhausting to even imagine. 

Hakuryuu’s not interested, and he has no obligation to indulge Alibaba.

Judar watches him as he stares at his phone. A smile spreads when another call comes right as the first ends. His eyes flicker to Hakuryuu but he doesn’t comment. 

Hakuryuu takes a breath to say something, he doesn’t know what, but Judar speaks first. “Are you gonna answer your phone? Do you want me to chase them off?”

Hakuryuu declines the call and brings the phone to his stomach. “That’s okay. I… It’s…” He swallows, but doing so makes him hyperaware of how sick he feels. “It’s my friend.”

“The friend who always call you?”

“Yes. Alibaba.”

“Alibaba, huh?” The phone starts ringing again and Hakuryuu presses it further into his stomach as he silences it. Judar gives him a look he fails to decipher. Somewhere between mocking and amused but he can’t tell if it’s directed towards him or Alibaba. “Can’t take a hint, can he?”

“I guess not,” Hakuryuu says because he doesn’t want to explain any fragment of what’s going on. Just as Judar begins to move Hakuryuu stands up and moves away from him. “I’m going to go to bed. I had trouble sleeping last night.”

Despite how obvious an excuse that is, Judar doesn’t do anything more than shrug his shoulders and tell him to sleep well, that he’ll join him eventually, but ultimately he doesn’t. Hakuryuu lies there for hours and Judar doesn’t show, and when he wakes up the following morning Judar isn’t even in the apartment.

Judar keeps odd hours. Frequently he leaves in the middle of the night without saying anything. When he returns, sometimes twelve hours later, he won’t look even a little tired. He waits for Hakuryuu to decide to sleep then follows.

Hakuryuu never asks what he does, mostly because it’s not any of his business how Judar spends his time, whether it’s a job or something else entirely. Judar is being kind enough to allow him to stay in his home free of charge and without demanding an explanation; the least Hakuryuu can do is not question his lifestyle.

Curiosity is not a good reson.

If he asks, Judar will certainly take it as a sign the barriers separating them are starting to merge. It will be seen as an invitation to ask personal questions, with the expectation that Hakuryuu will do the same. This sort of distant acquaintance has run its course. Judar’s been dropping more hints than before that he wants more than whatever this is.

Hakuryuu feels like he’s one-sidedly playing at something, leading them on, and it makes him feel worse, a mix of guilt, nausea, fear, and anger.

Judar keeps smiling at him, Alibaba continues calling, and Hakuryuu remains stagnant.

He turns his phone off and considers throwing it away.

He hides under blankets and only comes out when Judar is gone.

Like everything else it can’t last forever, but Hakuryuu is going to pretend otherwise until he has no choice but to face the reality in front of him.

So he’s not surprised when Judar initially joins him under his blanket later in the week. 

Judar sits up up and pulls at the blanket so it doesn’t sag and block their view of each other. 

“Hi,” Hakuryuu says when Judar fails to greet him.

“Hi.” Judar’s foot slides out to gently push his hip. “What are you doing, Hakuryuu?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know, there aren’t any monsters hidden in my closet or under my bed that are gonna hurt you. Or anywhere else here actually. If there were, I’d have them stay away from you, though.”

“I— Okay. Thanks?”

Judar’s foot shakes him. “You know, Hakuryuu, I can see your feelings even if you keep them to yourself.”

That’s probably not intended to sound as ominous as it does. “What does that mean?”

“What it sounds like. I understand the things you won’t say. Just like you understand the things I won’t say.”

Hakuryuu swallows dryly. “Like what?”

Judar brings a finger to his lips. “Are you sure you want me to say? Aren’t you relying on silence?” He blinks. “Hey, that’s an example right there. Isn’t that right, Hakuryuu?”

Hakuryuu doesn’t answer, and Judar smiles like his point has been proven. Maybe it has.

Judar reaches back, grabs the blanket, and tosses it to the ground, leaving both of them exposed to the ceiling light. The foot still on his hip slides across his back and hooks the other hip, tugging him a bit closer.

“I like you, Hakuryuu.” He leans over so their faces are about the same height but not much closer. “But you know that already, right? And you know how I mean it.”

Hakuryuu can’t find his voice, so he nods.

“See? I don’t have to speak, and neither do you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Judar gets next chapter instead. Because that works smoother.

No one has ever “liked” Hakuryuu before. That’s probably odd to say. An obviously false statement, because Hakuryuu isn’t unattractive, he knows that. He also knows that the scars covering a large percentage of his body don’t cancel out the quality of his features, which he knows are held in high esteem by most. For some his scars even heighten his looks, although there have been more times than he cares to admit that it’s been in a negative way. They are often treated as though they make him more attainable than he would be without them. Other times they’re used as an excuse to get close to him by pitying him or as a conversation starter, neither of which are appropriate or welcome. 

The people who have professed to “liking” Hakuryuu in the past can be separated into a few categories: those planted by his mother with the purpose of manipulating him or gathering information, those whose interested was more in his family’s status than him as a person, and those whose interest in him was in question because they’d never associated before. 

Judar is not likely to be his mother’s spy nor after his family’s wealth. When Hakuryuu forces himself to consider the possibility anyway his throat closes up. 

Days pass and Hakuryuu does not give Judar an answer to his unasked question, if Hakuryuu returns his feelings, has enough of a glimpse of “liking him too” that he’ll open his heart the tiniest bit. Unexpectedly, Judar doesn’t seek an answer from him, either. But then, Hakuryuu’s silence is more of an answer than he’s comfortable with. If his response were a straight _no_ he would have said so without hesitation, regardless of the current state of things. 

The thing is, if Hakuryuu maybe does want to try going somewhere with this, if all his parts are tuning to Judar’s frequency and he likes that harmony, what is he supposed to do? What’s he supposed to do and what’s he expected to do in the event he accepts? How physical is Judar hoping to get? Does he want more than that? Does he want an actual relationship?

Hakuryuu has made out with people sure, at parties he attended with Alibaba. Never lasted long or went anywhere, though, because aside from being bad at responding in general, he didn’t appreciate the way they’d often touch him without warning. Try to unclothe him then act like noncompliance made _him_ the rude one. 

He’s never been with someone who fits him. Something is always off, with him, with them. They’re too pushy. He’s not ever interested enough to be assertive. He was always too tense to relax at any point. Thinking too much. What was the point. Even the blowjobs he’s received are unpleasant memories he’d like to erase the existence of since he can’t take them back. 

That’s as far as his experience in physicality goes. There’s no reason to think it’ll be any different now. And that’s what Judar wants, right? That’s why he said something. That’s why he holds Hakuryuu in the middle of the night and blames it on having done so while asleep when Hakuryuu hadn’t asked. That’s why he leans over the couch to drape his arms over Hakuryuu’s shoulders to have a conversation instead of taking a seat beside him. That’s why he stands so close and touches him and looks at him when he thinks Hakuryuu is too absorbed in what he’s doing to notice.

And because on some level Hakuryuu wants what Judar wants, he lets Judar do these things with little complaint. Right? To assume so is easier than dwelling on how he feels and how his body reacts. Obsessing over a potential love life when the things holding him up are breaking down would be ridiculous.

So he doesn’t.

Things between he and Judar remain as they have been. For the most part, he thinks. Nothing in their interactions has changed, just as he wanted, but there’s no longer tension hampering his end of it. The amount of time he spends weighing his words before he speaks them has decreased. Sometimes, like when Judar suggests they get out of bed in the middle of the night to wander the chilly streets, he’ll call him an idiot on impulse, and Judar will smile in response to hearing something so carefree from him.

It’s sort of nice. It is nice. With Alibaba, even before all this, he now realizes there was a certain guarded quality to his approach that took the form of reticence. Since that’s more or less how he always is—his assumed personality—he figured the lesser form of it with Alibaba was… his honest self, for lack of a better term. Alibaba was the first person he felt comfortable around outside his siblings, therefore, however he was with Alibaba was the real him, that’s how Hakuryuu viewed it.

But now, with Judar, that is not his default. Holding throwaway thoughts inside is something he must consciously choose and remind himself to enforce. Unlike with others, when they slip out he doesn’t get embarrassed and try to bury them. Eventually he just let them be, and now he’s finding that his personality is not as subdued as he believed it to be, which is as discomforting as it is freeing.

He was comfortable as he was. Or he thought he was. It’s more distressing than he’d like to admit that everything in his identity up until now has amounted to a defensive measure against something he’d prefer not to acknowledge.

It also means that he likes who he currently is, and fears the inevitability of it being drawn away. Lost, never to be found again. Stuck with the knowledge he could be better than he is, happier than he is.

What Hakuryuu finds most perplexing is that of all the people it could have been, it’s Judar. It’s not Alibaba, his sister or other siblings, or any of the people he’s crossed paths with at parties and school. For the first time in… far, far too long, Hakuryuu is relaxed. Even when he’s exasperated with Judar’s lack of organization and basic necessities it’s colored with fondness.

Hakuryuu has even grown bold enough to say aloud that Judar’s living arrangement is unacceptable, which Judar seems to find amusing. He doesn’t find it so amusing when Hakuryuu drags him to the store with him so that they may fill his home—kitchen, more accurately—with what it needs.

“Hakuryuu, you’re taking forever. Why did I have to come? I already told you I don’t care how much money you spend.”

“You’re supposed to be paying attention, not sitting in the cart. I’m not going to get you groceries and household supplies every time you need them.”

“You don’t need to, and I didn’t ask! When am I ever gonna need a whisk? Or whatever this thing is. Half of this junk I’m never going to use.”

Hakuryuu keeps his eyes on the rows of kitchen utensils, scanning the labels for a reliable brand. Dismissively, he says, “I’m sure you don’t think you need a can opener, strainer, or measuring cup, either.”

“I don’t.”

“You can’t live off snacks and eating out for the rest of your life.”

“I eat fruit! And I definitely can eat out the rest of my life.”

“Fruit isn’t going to sustain you.”

“How would you know, Hakuryuu? Have you ever lived off fruit?”

Hakuryuu decides to not answer that. 

The whisk he wants to get isn’t cheap, and his second choice isn’t much better. Judar may or may not use it, but in the meantime Hakuryuu definitely will. The thick wad of cash he was handed should cover everything fine, but he’s not completely certain since every time he tried to count it Judar claimed it wasn’t necessary and pushed his hand down. When he asked for an estimate Judar brushed him off.

He tosses in the marginally cheaper whisk, which Judar then proceeds to touch and examine. Once again he states it’s not something he’ll use.

There are many things Judar lacks in his home. Things that aren’t luxuries Hakuryuu is over accustomed to. Like, he doesn’t have garbage bags. Sometimes he’ll use some type of plastic bag lying around, but mostly he collects trash in boxes he throws away when they overfill. He has a few pans, but they aren’t in great condition and aren’t practical sizes. There are two bowls, three plates, a mixing bowl, and three cups. None of them match and most of them are chipped in some way. As for silverware, those Hakuryuu can count using both hands. He doesn’t have any proper knives or a cutting board. He doesn’t have a teapot.

As for food items, there are many things Judar doesn’t have, including rice. There are not any noodles, not even ramen. Nor does he regularly have bread, meat, eggs, or food in general, whether it’s some premade meal or ingredients. Just cookies and candy, those can always be found in a cabinet. And then, yes, Judar does pick up fruit on a weekly basis, but that’s not a way to live. Alongside the lack of food there aren’t any spices, either, pepper, cinnamon, curry powder, ginger. Nothing.

That’s not to say there hasn’t been food there since Hakuryuu’s been staying with him. In fact, Judar made a point to get him food that wasn’t from restaurants, as proved by the fact that he left it all on the counter for Hakuryuu to put away as he liked. It still wasn’t that impressive in variety, though.

Pushing the cart down the next aisle, Judar’s hand reaches out to grab a package of cookies, which results in several stacks falling to the floor when Hakuryuu doesn’t immediately stop. They stop looking at each other when Judar drops the pack onto his stomach. Hakuryuu’s subsequently picks up the mess and makes sure all the rows are neat and stable.

If Hakuryuu was using his own money he might take those cookies and put them back. But since it’s not his money he settles for saying, “You have an unopened pack of those on the counter. At least finish the opened one before getting another.”

“But I’m here now. Besides, it’s sealed, right?”

That’s true, but Hakuryuu doesn’t think it’s relevant. “I suppose.”

“If it’ll make you happy I’ll eat the rest of that one tonight. Then you’ll have nothing to complain about.”

“That’s okay.”

Hakuryuu doesn’t really care if Judar is eating foods with proper nutritional value or not, but if they’re together most of the time he can’t help it. Eating junk food, fruit, and little else isn’t going to keep a person healthy. That’s not something Hakuryuu wants to deal with. And he doesn’t want them to be trapped in Judar’s home during a downpour or some holiday when nothing’s open and starve when it could have been easily avoided.

It’s not like he wants to get much, just some basic things, like rice and eggs and bread. This may do nothing, especially since it’s still Judar’s money being used, but this way they won’t go out nearly every day. Judar is always paying for him, even when Hakuryuu insists otherwise, even after he asks for separate bills. It’s starting to get to him. 

Hakuryuu may not have much money at the moment, but his family is so well off that the phrase “well off” feels deliberately misleading. Meanwhile, Judar is living in a rundown apartment in an even more rundown area and… It’s not precisely that Hakuryuu feels he’s taking advantage, but maybe that is all there is to it. So far, Judar has not struck him as the type to do something like that because he expects recompense later. But if he were, in this case Hakuryuu thinks it would be justified.

In his pocket he feels the soft vibration of his phone, making him stop the cart as anxiety pops up throughout his body. Only to pull it out and find nothing on the screen, no missed calls or messages, which is not as relieving as it should be. Recently Alibaba’s attempts to reach him have been unpredictable, both in timing and number of calls. Most likely it is reflective of Alibaba’s emotions towards him at the time. When he is scared for him the calls come one after the other no matter what time of day it is. When he is angry he gives several calls spaced out over an hour. When he’s despondent he maybe calls once. There are many days he doesn’t call at all or calls several times over the course of the day; Hakuryuu is not certain what emotions accompany those.

The situation with Alibaba makes him feel… He feels like he’s being an asshole, a bad friend. Neither of which is really debatable at this point probably. He is both of those things. But it’s not like Hakuryuu is intentionally snubbing Alibaba. Or he’d like to think that’s the case, because he does want to answer. He wants to clear the air between them no matter where it leads. It’s just that his fingers don’t move. They freeze over the button as the worst scenarios conjure in his head like an omen. It gets worse the longer he waits, but he can’t bring himself to do anything. He physically cannot do it, and it is inexplicable.

Maybe a text would be easier. Or he could call when he knows Alibaba is unlikely or unable to answer, just so he knows Hakuryuu is making an attempt to meet him halfway. Wants to get this over with just as much as he does. But there’s nothing. There’s never anything.

“Is it your boyfriend again?”

Hakuryuu is at first too dumbstruck to react in any form. Then he has to catch his phone as it nearly slips out of his hand. The look he gives must be impressively shocked, because Judar’s laugh is so loud it echoes down the aisle.

“Who has a burner phone for someone who’s just a friend, you know? I guess it’d make more sense if he’s your drug dealer or something, but who says he’s not both.”

“Alibaba is neither my boyfriend nor my drug dealer. He’s… just someone I know.” Lately it’s getting harder and harder to claim they’re friends. Whenever he says it, it sounds like a lie, although he can’t know whom it’s for.

Judar gives him an askance look. “Anyway,” he says emphatically, “is it him? It is, right? Are you gonna ignore him like usual?”

“It’s no one.” Hakuryuu shows him the phone’s display as proof. He imagined it.

“Huh. Are you disappointed?”

Hakuryuu looks at the screen for a long time before deciding. “No. I’m not.”

Judar looks at him, considering, then shrugs. He picks up a few of the items in the cart and tosses them aside after getting a good look at them. “What’s next, Hakuryuu? A cheese grater? Or maybe a potato peeler?”

“Those weren’t on my list, but we can get them if you want.” He can tell Judar is trying to determine if he’s kidding or not, so Hakuryuu keeps his face impassive.

It’s sort of hard to place what exactly it is he likes about Judar. The first impression he had of him wasn’t that great—and Hakuryuu hasn’t forgotten about that unsolicited photo, either, not that he’s been able find an appropriate time to ask about it. The qualities Judar possess—immaturity, reckless impulsivity, an inclination towards being unnecessarily cryptic—he would not ordinarily find likable, much less attractive. Yet here they are, with Hakuryuu undeniably charmed and seriously weighing the merit of pursuing an intimate relationship with someone like him.

Although the prospect of trying is a little terrifying, it is no more stressful than anything else going on in his life. And he thinks if he were to agree then change his mind that Judar would not hold it against him. Between them nothing would change. Unlike many people Hakuryuu has interacted with, Judar is safe—so far, anyway. Being around Judar gives him a sense of peace he’s been sorely lacking for the majority of this year.

Perhaps that stability is what finally gives Hakuryuu the strength to reach out to Alibaba without pulling back at the halfway mark.

He tries to go in expecting nothing, but they ricochet in his head anyway. He still tries to find and hold on to the one he finds least painful.

It’s a late Friday night and he knows there’s a good chance Alibaba is out. If he is, Alibaba will make cut himself away to make time for him, because that’s what Alibaba does. He might have called earlier, the day before or in the morning, but lately Judar has been around more than usual. Hakuryuu thought it’d be rude to make such a personal call in his presence. He’d already waited so long, what did this little more matter.

The phone rings and rings without answer. Each pause overflows with hope that dries out to dread at the successive ring. It makes him want to hang up. Reconsider. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe he should stop, throw this phone away, forget he ever knew someone named Alibaba Saluja.

But this feeling must one shared with Alibaba. He didn’t allow it to stop him, so Hakuryuu won’t either.

The seconds leading up to Alibaba’s answer are slow. He almost can’t believe it, and kind of wants to laugh at the irony of Alibaba being the one to ignore him after all this time. But he supposes he deserves it, no matter how petty that would be. Alibaba is only repaying his behavior in kind, which should be expected.

That doesn’t happen, of course, because it’s Alibaba. Not that Alibaba wouldn’t lower himself to something like that; it’s just that he’s more self-righteous than he is petty.

Hakuryuu is greeted by the sound of his own name. It doesn’t come out immediately, and it’s said carefully, the way one might speak to an animal they wish to avoid scaring away.

Alibaba thinks he will lose his nerve. That makes Hakuryuu all the more determined to maintain it.

Levelly, he returns the greeting. “Alibaba.”

“I… Are you okay?”

“I am. …Are you?”

“Yeah.”

Alibaba is supposed to be doing the talking. Alibaba is the one who’s been calling him. His end of the line is completely without background noise. He could be anywhere. Hakuryuu can hear him breathe.

Hakuryuu takes a breath and doesn’t sigh. “Did you need something Alibaba? You have been calling me, haven’t you?”

Perhaps Alibaba has been calling impulsively with no real plan in mind. Maybe this is all out of obligation and Alibaba was counting on him never answering.

“I noticed you aren’t staying in that building anymore. Even though your things are gone I’ve still stopped by a few times. Are you somewhere safe?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I won’t ask where you’re staying. You wouldn’t tell me anyway, right?” There’s a slightly awkward pause Alibaba rushes to fill like he thinks Hakuryuu might give an answer. “A-Anyway, how are you, Hakuryuu?”

“I’m fine.”

Hakuryuu offers nothing else, which is typical for phone conversations with him actually. Details always have to be pried from him over the phone, much to his sister’s exasperation. As he usually does, Alibaba fills the silence as best he can with babble of what he’s been up to in class and with his friends, but it’s more frantic than Hakuryuu is used to. 

“Alibaba,” Hakuryuu interrupts, “was there a reason you were calling? I’m running out of minutes.”

After nearly a minute, Alibaba says, “Your family is worried about you.”

Hakuryuu falls abruptly lightheaded, like he’s been hit. His—? “What?”

“Your sister called me. She said she got my number from your brother somehow? Anyway, you didn’t call her for weeks, months, and she— Well, she’s here.”

Hakuryuu looks behind him as if expecting his sister to have already found him. Alibaba is saying something. Something about how he wanted to tell him but the right time never came and then Hakuei showed up. Hakuei showed up and she’s so worried about him he should really call her himself. But if that’s too hard right now, Alibaba will arrange something for them, they could meet in his dorm, or somewhere public. Or maybe there’s something else Hakuryuu would like to pass on to his sister now? Assuming he doesn’t want to call her himself, that is.

“Hakuryuu?”

Hakuryuu’s tongue has turned into dust.

His sister. Of course she’s in Rakushou. Of course she’d make time in her busy schedule to worry extensively about him. Of course she’d come here to ensure his safety first hand when their mother— 

Of course.

It was his mistake to not seriously consider this beforehand. He knew his sister would not simply accept his fading away without question. His mother wouldn’t bother to hide it from her. Nor would Koutoku. It just hadn’t been on his mind when he left. And then once he was gone he somehow decided it didn’t matter. There were other things to focus on.

“Hakuryuu, are you okay?”

And his sister will… He doesn’t know what she will do. Their mother does not treat her the way she treats him. She has never been provided proof of any of their mother’s wrongdoing towards him, and Hakuryuu has preferred it that way. It’s never been something she needed to know, then or now. Hakuryuu doesn’t want her to know.

To her, all he might be is an overreacting child, and he can’t claim that she’s wrong.

She will find him, scold him, and tell him to come home. Going through with something like this so irresponsibly, making them all worry, what was he thinking?

And Hakuryuu will… 

“Haku—”

“I have to go.”

After turning off the phone he holds it up to his mouth. He might throw up. There is a good chance he is going to throw up. It’s not like they know where he is. This part of the city is large. It could take a while to narrow down where he is, but that’s wishful thinking. His family’s reach and power should not be underestimated. The only options are to wait or give in. 

He leans over until his forehead hits the couch’s armrest and takes a shuddering breath. Calm down, he thinks. Calm down, but he can’t, and thinking that he needs to makes him panic more.

It’s scary to think about what will happen to him. Because something will. What he wants has never been much of a priority, and there’s nowhere for him to go.


	6. Chapter 6

Hakuryuu is panicking. There might be an expression that gets across his actual state of mind. Freaking the fuck out, having a meltdown, something along those lines. But Judar doesn’t know Hakuryuu well enough to determine where he might fall on the scale of taking something poorly. For all he knows, this is a mild reaction to a reasonable problem, or an overreaction to something minor. Maybe it’s a controlled reaction to… whatever, and Judar should be grateful Hakuryuu’s not, like, who knows, setting his apartment on fire or pawning off his shit in preparation to run elsewhere.

Whatever the case is, Judar has determined that Hakuryuu is somewhere between being on autopilot and doing a poor job of pretending everything is totally fine. Kind of funny if not for the fact it’s gotten tiresome.

They’ve been living together for a while, a few months. So Judar thinks he can claim a fair amount of familiarity with what passes as normal behavior for Hakuryuu—or the normal Judar has come to know. The stuff he’s being doing the last week or so, the pacing, the occupying himself with cleaning and cooking so much there’s not a moment of empty space, doesn’t fit. Sure, he’d been doing that stuff before, but it had been more like he was pulling Judar’s place up to his standards. Now it’s on the obsessive side, like he’s gotta do it to keep what’s left of his peace of mind. It’s a little annoying. Sometimes it’s a lot annoying.

Several methods of dealing with it have crossed his mind. Some options are more viable than others, but regrettably none of them are things he can really act on. So he has to channel that frustration elsewhere, which he’s always done anyway.

Judar’s raised arm swings down. The cleaver makes a satisfying _thunk_ on the wood as it makes a clean slice through flesh and bone. The sound makes him give a pleased smile. The sight of bone and muscle, blood leaking onto the tabletop, sends a shiver up his spine. Blood splatters his already bloodstained apron and bare arms. He raises his arm again, readying to strike right below the elbow.

The situation with Hakuryuu isn’t stressing him out or anything. In some ways it’s preferable like this, but at the same time he’s not exactly sure what to do with him. If Judar suggests they go anywhere, grocery shopping, a diner, wherever, Hakuryuu will freeze up and give an overly polite refusal. Often coupled with a weak—at times stuttering—excuse for why he can’t go out. He’s put something on the stove—even if he hasn’t yet. He’s right in the middle of cleaning. He’s at a good part of the book he’s been staring at more than actually reading.

And okay, the excuses aren’t _entirely_ weak. They’re justified. There’s always a pause before he answers, like he has to catch agreement off the tip of his tongue and swap it with rejection at the last minute. Whatever’s got him spooked runs through his head, the unlikely potentials of what will happen if and when he goes out, and every time without fail, his face has turned pallid. Judar is surprised but thankful he hasn’t vomited on the floor. Although, if he did throw up, Hakuryuu would clean it up and be grateful for the distraction.

His arm drops again.

Disposing of bodies is cathartic. Messy. Time consuming. Exhausting at times, but the work is meditation unlike any other. Plenty of factors play into that, of course. Each provides its own sense of relief that makes the act so much more than it’d be on it’s own. It’s not just disposal.

Justice is being served.

Someone out there is saying that. Actually, dozens are, hundreds, thousands. More than that are thinking it. Others are shouting it behind a façade of anonymity while others whisper it to their friends. The newest trend that’s bound to lose its allure just as it’s found.

Judar isn’t thinking about it at all.

Justice is being served.

It’s as true as it is false. Dress it up however you like, with lies or truths, disguised or in plain view, justice is always a self-serving excuse. No more no less. Either way he doesn’t care all that much. Most would disagree, but he’s already decided justice has nothing to do with him.

Once the body has been cut into smaller pieces it’s distributed among several large burlap sacks that contain more remains. Some of the remains are fresher than others, but they’re all fairly recent. The bottoms are dark with dried and leaking blood. The stench is so pungent his facemask will have to be switched out for a gasmask if he wants to wait longer to dispose of them.

Disposal is the real messy part. Especially now that they’re on to him, but it’s not as though he doesn’t have resources to get it done just as efficiently as before.

He closes the door of what used to be a meat locker or freezer or something, and after sealing it, chaining it back up, and putting the locks back on, he pulls down his facemask to inhale. The air in this musky basement is fresher than that storage room, but not by much. It smells like wet nature with an aftertaste of decay.

And he’s not even done for the day yet. Still has to clean up his tools, himself. These clothes will have to be burned, but it’s not as though he liked them anyway. The whole point of wearing them, although it further dwindles the small pool of clothing he owns. Maybe he can drag Hakuryuu out shopping with the temptation of finding a disguise of his own.

When he’s locked up the cellar and is headed away from the factory it’s so late that it’s started to become early. The sky has the beginning tinge of early morning pink that bleeds into the faintest blue. Clouds swirl, spread thin, looking too low to the ground, like a canopy about to collapse.

If he wants to stay awake he’ll need to take something. Snuggling up with Hakuryuu sounds much more appealing. Lucky for him that convincing Hakuryuu to stay in bed is easier to accomplish than it used to be.

On the way home Judar picks up some breakfast with the cash that was in his latest target’s wallet. A measly twenty-three huang, but it’ll cover breakfast. 

By the time he makes it home the sky has become a clear blue and the sun’s warmth accentuates the chill in the air. His building doesn’t feel much warmer. Neither does his apartment.

“Hakuryuu, I brought breakfast,” he announces while he kicks the door shut with his heel.

The living room is spotless. It somehow makes his place look worse. Everything is lined up perfectly. Even his books and movies have been alphabetized. The books are arranged by author instead of title again. At least it’s not by color.

Hakuryuu’s curled up in bed. Blankets bunched around his head, hugging a pillow. A bare foot sticks out from the blanket’s corner. His cellphone is loosely clutched in his hand.

Judar puts the hot chocolates on the end table and the food on the bed. While keeping an eye on Hakuryuu’s face, he pulls out his phone and takes a photo. Looking at it, he smiles. The hair curling on his face and neck and on the pillow give a nice frame to his face. 

After changing into some loose fitting clothes, Judar drops onto the bed. “Hakuryuu! Breakfast.”

Hakuryuu blinks at him. His mouth works its way open and an exhale falls out. Then his eyes fall shut again. Judar can’t tell if he’s fallen back asleep already or not.

If Hakuryuu was sleeping soundly when he first started staying here, he definitely hasn’t been the past week or so. Before, he was often up before Judar and quick to get up if Judar woke him. Now, it takes some time for Judar to rouse him. And how often does Hakuryuu actually get up once he does? Not often. Rarely, which suits Judar fine. Except for the wasted effort.

Judar slides his legs under the comforter. He pokes at Hakuryuu’s leg with his toe. Not a twitch. “I got hot chocolate. You like it, right? This place makes it really sweet. It’s good. There’s even whip cream on top.”

Hakuryuu drags his eyes back open. He turns his phone up, doesn’t push any buttons though his thumb trails over them. “Time is it?”

“I dunno. Seven?” Then he adds, “You should eat. I brought food. You can go back to sleep after.”

While Hakuryuu pushes himself to a sitting position Judar sets up their breakfast in the space between them. In the absence of scolding him for this, Hakuryuu sniffs. Thinking about how he’ll feel compelled to change the sheets later, and how he’ll probably be thankful for the brief distraction.

Judar takes a large portion of what’s there for himself. What’s left should all be for Hakuryuu, but he doesn’t touch anything. Judar holds the other cup of hot chocolate in front of his face until he takes it.

Once he’s taken a sip Judar prods him. “Do you like it?”

Hakuryuu seems surprised to be asked, but maybe he’s just sleepy. He takes another sip and tilts his head to the side. “It’s not bad.”

“But it’s good, right? Really good.”

“Very sweet. I see why you like it.” He yawns and takes another sip. He glances at Judar and pushes strands of hair behind his ear. “Thank you.”

“No problem. You should show your gratitude by eating.”

“It’s too early to eat.” But nonetheless Hakuryuu grabs samples of the various foods and sets them up in front of him. Picking at it, he takes small bits and chews slow so the process takes longer.

Whatever’s been bothering him, Hakuryuu’s chosen to not disclose it. Which is fine by Judar. It’s not like he plans to ask. Besides, even missing several key components he has an idea of what it could be. 

Though, it is kind of surprising Hakuryuu’s kept his apparently growing troubles to himself with such determination. Aren’t people supposed to be more comfortable with bearing their heart and secrets to strangers? The less you know them the more you can know about them or something. Not that Judar’s sharing either, but he’s been more inconspicuous about keeping his life to himself.

Maybe Hakuryuu is waiting for him to dig into his private business? Or waiting for Judar to disclose his life so he’ll feel obligated to do the same? Or nothing. Who knows. Judar has no idea, but he’s always thought pushing someone as tightly wound as Hakuryuu in any direction was an awful idea.

It is an awful idea, but it’s strangely tempting to see what will happen anyway.

This. The whole… thing of it hasn’t gone quite the way he anticipated. The attraction isn’t surprising. That, he saw coming the first time they were close enough to breathe the same air. It exhilarated him. Made him look forward to what was to come. He couldn’t wait to take Hakuryuu to bed only to drive a blade through his back when it’d be at its most impactful.

That plan hasn’t exactly changed—he thinks—but it’s lost a great deal of its oomph over the last month or so. In it’s place is… something. And he’s yet to figure out how he’d like to proceed in its stead. It’s more complicated than he appreciates.

Hakuryuu has missed many of Judar’s expectations. Considering the observation he accrued beforehand, he’s not sure how it managed to catch him this off guard. Things are different, the type of stress, living on the street, blah blah blah, but not so different it should result in this.

What Judar does know without a doubt is that he wants to push Hakuryuu to the bed and kiss him really bad. With the way things have been going, maybe Hakuryuu wouldn’t mind. Maybe would let him take it farther than some kissing and manhandling.

But he just has to wait. It’s really boring.

After they’ve had their fill of breakfast and the bed is clear, Judar throws himself at Hakuryuu, unbalancing him. With Judar’s weight, his side hits the bed. “Hakuryuu, take a nap with me.” He pushes his nose to Hakuryuu’s neck and pulls a blanket over them.

“Judar. I just got up. You woke me up.” When Judar kisses lightly at his neck his body twitches and he opens his neck up for more, though Judar holds back.

“And I just got home. Wanna nap. Nap with me? What do you need to get out of bed for anyway, huh? This is much nicer.”

Hakuryuu’s hands loosely touch his sides then work their way to his back, never quite finding confidence. “I’m not tired.”

“Then keep me company. Pleeaase.”

A sigh. Feigned acquiescence.

In the following silence Judar’s exhaustion catches up to him, and he falls to easy sleep.

When he opens his eyes an indeterminable amount of time later it’s dark. It makes him want to close them until it’s light again. One of his arms is hanging off the bed and he can barely feel it. Half his back is exposed, practically numb from chill contrasting with the warmth surrounding it.

In the background there’s white noise, static murmuring that’s close to lulling him back to sleep. Lulling, then it sharpens. Judar twitches, rolls to the edge of the bed and almost falls off.

The urgency in Hakuryuu’s voice is clearer but the words aren’t.

Judar pads over to the sliver of light shining in through the crack in the door. In the living room Hakuryuu paces.

Unfortunately, not long after Judar starts listening in the conversation ends. He remains still, listening to Hakuryuu’s shaking breath, hoping that maybe he’ll start up again, or that maybe he’ll make a call or someone will call him or something. After it’s apparent nothing will happen, Judar saunters out asking Hakuryuu if he’s cooked dinner for them.

He does his best to ignore that Hakuryuu’s eyes are red. And that so are his cheeks, only splotchy. In his hand is his phone, looking like it’ll drop at any moment. He still has to bite his tongue to keep it from rushing ahead of him.

“Judar. I. No. I was… Just about to.” His eyes skip around the room, anywhere but at Judar as though it will hide that he was crying. “What would you like?”

Judar shrugs, follows Hakuryuu to the kitchen. He takes a few cookies out of a pack on the counter. “Whatever you feel like making. Everything you make is good.”

Hakuryuu gives him a look. Judar always complains about various foods on his plate and sometimes refuses to eat them. He idles in the small space between counter and pantry, grabbing pots only to put them away as soon as he’s pulled them out, opening and closing cabinet doors without looking at the contents inside. He sniffs a few more times before setting both hands on the counter and breathing in.

“Can I talk to you?” Hakuryuu asks. And when Judar tells him of course he leads them to the couch. He gathers his thoughts, puts himself together or whatever else it is he might need to do, and says, “I need a favor.”

Not something Judar could have predicted. His instinct is to toy with him a bit, hold it over his head before he has any idea what it is. Instead he smiles. It turns out more genuine than he really wants it to be. “A favor, huh. What’s that?”

“I need a ride.”

More minor than anticipated. Barely what he’d call a favor, but then, it’s not as though Hakuryuu has made a habit of asking him for things. Has dragged Judar to the grocery store more than once to lecture him about nutritional eating and tends to rarely seek Judar’s approval before taking action, but he doesn’t ask for favors or expect Judar to do anything for him.

Judar says, “Easy enough. Where to? Not out of the city, I hope. Though,” he continues with a wink, “I might be willing to make an exception for you.”

Hakuryuu doesn’t react to his flirting at all. It’s so tiresome. At this rate Judar _is_ going to end up pinning him to something. The couch is okay, but he thinks a wall would be better. At least in his head it is. Don’t want him ducking under his arm. Easier to keep him where he is if it’s the couch or bed.

“It’s a… café. Bit of a drive from here, but not too far. I think.”

“Do you not drive, Hakuryuu?”

“I. No. Can we not get into that?”

“Sure, sure. No problem. When do you need this ride?”

“I’m not sure. It hasn’t been set up yet.”

“And do I get to know who you’re meeting with?”

Hakuryuu visibly wrestles with that question. Turns around in his head whether he thinks Judar has a right to know or not and if it’s worth sharing. Judar doesn’t think it should be so troubling. 

“Is it for a date?” Judar asks with a lilt. He grins at the reaction he gets, Hakuryuu startling with a look of near horror. As is often the case, he’s amusing.

“Lunch with my sister.”

“Am I invited?”

A very quick answer. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Okay, I’m just checking. I have no problem sitting around outside for you while you chat with your sister for an hour.”

“It shouldn’t take that long.”

“Yeah. Whatever you say.”

Hakuryuu frowns. “Thank you.” There’s a swirling blush on his face when he looks back and Judar’s not certain he’s ever seen him look more on edge. He leans in only to pull back the moment his eyes meet Judar’s. “Um. Can you close your eyes for a second?”

Judar completely fails in squashing his smile before it can emerge. “Are you for real?”

“Shut up.” He winces and shakes his head. “Just do it?”

“Done.”

The kiss is gentler than expected or desired, but Judar waits to deepen it until Hakuryuu pulls away too soon. He grabs at the back of his neck and at his shoulders, and can’t tell if Hakuryuu is trying to him away or grabbing back. When Judar climbs into his lap his hips jump, and Judar coaxes him to lie back so they can jump all they want.

They move against one another, together and apart, seeking sensations that are the same but different. It’s easy to feel one another through their soft clothing. Hakuryuu’s lips are dry but soft and his body is firm. Judar already regrets not acting sooner. Where was the sense in waiting for Hakuryuu to initiate first? Though, Judar always knew he would. There was never any doubt.

Hakuryuu breaks his head free to catch breath at the side. His hands clutch Judar’s sides, the crop top’s edge. His knuckles brush Judar’s skin. When Judar’s lips come into contact with his jaw he lets out a small gasp. Then comes another, this one accompanied by a breathy whine from Judar pulling at his ear and kissing down to his neck.

“Would you like me to stop, Hakuryuu? Is it too much already? I had no idea you were so sensitive.”

Hakuryuu groans but it sounds entirely too pleased. “Shut up.”

Judar laughs and kisses his cheek, nuzzles him, grabs him through his borrowed clothes. “Let me show you just how great a distraction this can be.”


End file.
